Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Suriname and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jeff Mills to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
The Invisible,
Robert Görl,
Joe Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nils Olav,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nik Kershaw,
Nirvana,
ABBA,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bobby Sherman,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bluetip,
Neu!,
Dawn Penn,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxette,
John Cale,
Easy Going,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
the Bar-Kays,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Bananas,
Skarface,
Das Ding,
John Coltrane,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
Masters at Work,
A Certain Ratio,
The Index,
Guru Guru,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Rapeman,
Saccharine Trust,
Slick Rick,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
Iggy Pop,
Rites of Spring,
Depeche Mode,
Scion,
New Age Steppers,
Josef K,
The Fugs,
Tim Buckley,
The Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Steve Hackett,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.